


The Bitter Truth

by wolfiefics



Category: Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: And took it out on Qui-Gon, Angst, But I think they got over it, Emotional Hurt, Gen, How you want to read the ending is entirely up to you, I had a really bad day, Lots of it, M/M, Mace bonks Qui-Gon over the head, Obi-Wan has ALOT to say, Qui-Gon Lives, sometimes all you need is a purge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:47:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24043099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfiefics/pseuds/wolfiefics
Summary: After Naboo, Qui-Gon cannot understand why Obi-Wan has abandon him and their partnership. Mace gives Qui-Gon a kick in the butt and Obi-Wan delivers some very hard, bitter truths about how he saw his apprenticeship with Qui-Gon.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 16
Kudos: 218





	The Bitter Truth

**Author's Note:**

> I am working on something happy at the moment. This is just the product of a VERY bad day yesterday. I took it out on Qui-Gon. Sorry, my man.

Qui-Gon stared at the scorch mark on his chest. It still stung a little bit, pulled the skin taut when he stretched, but it wasn’t bad. He’d certainly had worse. Thanks to Obi-Wan, it could have been MUCH worse.

Scowling at the thought of his errant apprentice, Qui-Gon slipped his undertunic on, stepped into his soft Temple slippers and walked into the common room of he and Obi-Wan’s living quarters.

No. Qui-Gon stopped cold at the sight of a tow-head bent over a datapad. Obi-Wan didn’t live here anymore. It was Qui-Gon and Anakin’s living quarters. Qui-Gon dampened the spike of hurt before Anakin picked up on it and headed into the kitchen. By rote, he made his favorite tea. The tin was running low. He would need to ask Obi-Wan to –

Qui-Gon sighed and set the tin of leaves down, hand clenching around the container.

He needed to stop that. Obi-Wan didn’t live here anymore, had washed his hands of his master until his Trials. Obi-Wan had made it clear he no longer needed or wanted Qui-Gon’s presence.

Qui-Gon felt a prickle of tears and blinked rapidly to keep them from falling. How had it gone so wrong? He’d had it so good, for once in his life. Obi-Wan was an attentive, eager, skilled, respectful, and intelligent apprentice. Everything a master could dream of. They’d had a rocky beginning, which Qui-Gon could, and had, admitted was mostly his fault. Yet they’d grown into a partnership, one’s strengths bolstered the other’s weaknesses. Qui-Gon learned as much from Obi-Wan as Obi-Wan from him. He had grown to love the younger Jedi with all his heart, waited impatiently for Obi-Wan’s certain knighthood so that he could confess his feelings and hope Obi-Wan felt the same.

Why had Obi-Wan turned into this cold, almost spiteful young man?

After they defeated the Sith Lord in Naboo’s generator core, Qui-Gon exuberantly hugged his padawan. They defeated a Sith! Sith hadn’t been seen in so long, it was almost fantastical. Obi-Wan acquitted himself with great skill, even saving Qui-Gon from a potential gruesome death. But Obi-Wan had pulled away, features closed off, their bond shielded closed against his master, gave a respectful bow and turned away.

It had hurt. Gods, how it had hurt. His warm and compassionate padawan had been, dare Qui-Gon think it, hateful.

The two Jedi left the scene of battle to others, helping liberate the palace, and then the prisoners within the city. They coordinated efforts of rebuilding and medical aid. Watched as Queen Amidala forcefully wrested concessions from the Viceroy of the Trade Federation. Qui-Gon had been dismayed at Anakin’s involvement, accidental though it was, but pleased at the boy’s ingenuity. He’d turned to Obi-Wan to mention it, but Obi-Wan was walking away, head held high, back straight. Uncaring. Qui-Gon watched, nonplussed, not certain he had the right to call the other man back.

What had gone wrong?

The door chimed and Anakin’s eager voice called, “I’ll get it!” There was a scamper of feet, the swish of the door and then an uncomfortable silence before Anakin spoke again. His tone this time was almost fearful. “Hello, Master Windu.”

“Hello, Anakin,” answered the Korun master in a congenial tone. Qui-Gon exited the kitchen, tea tin still in hand, to watch Mace sidle passed Anakin and into their quarters. “Good evening, Qui-Gon.”

“Mace,” Qui-Gon said in an even, friendly manner. They were old friends, he and Mace. Not quite creche mates, having been from different clans, but became friends as initiates and the friendship solidified as padawans and knights. They rarely saw eye to eye but Qui-Gon respected Mace and knew Mace reciprocated.

Qui-Gon looked over at a nervous Anakin and smiled gently. “Anakin, perhaps you could read in your rooms? I believe Master Windu wishes to speak with me privately.”

Anakin’s gaze darted between the two masters apprehensively, but dutifully gathered his things from the couch and his bedroom door slid closed firmly behind him.

“I sense a lecture,” Qui-Gon said. “Tea?”

“I don’t lecture,” protested Mace with a hint of a smile. “And yes, please.”

Qui-Gon went back to the kitchen, heated the water, put the tea in a pot, assembled cups and sweetener and carried it all out into the common room. Mace had seated himself in Anakin’s place on the couch, looking about curiously.

“I’m used to seeing all of Obi-Wan’s things,” Mace confessed at Qui-Gon’s look of inquiry.

Qui-Gon tensed but replied as calmly as possible, “As Obi-Wan no longer lives here, he took his things.” It was more accurate to say that Obi-Wan trashed most of his things, taking only the bare basic necessities. Qui-Gon returned from a long visit with the healers to find their recycler valiantly trying to process all the stuff Obi-Wan had crammed into it.

Mace nodded as if that were understandable, poured his tea, put the obscene amount of sweetener that he liked in it but never raised it to his lips. Qui-Gon waited. Mace would spit it out in time.

“He’s been seeing the mind healers,” Mace said abruptly.

Qui-Gon was taken aback. “Why?”

Mace darted a look at him and then away. Qui-Gon couldn’t read his friend’s expression. “He informed them he wanted the training bond broken before his Trials.”

A deep spike of hurt lanced through Qui-Gon and the cup he’d just picked up tumbled to the floor, shattering on the hard wood. He gasped at the pain as it roared through him. Mace sprang to his feet and pushed Qui-Gon gently back into his chair.

Anakin’s door swished open and a worried, “Master Qui-Gon, are you all right?” could be heard.

Mace turned to the young boy. “He’s all right, Anakin. Just some bad news. He’s not harmed, I promise.” Mace’s tone was reassuring, kind, and seemed to convince Anakin for the door swished closed once more. “Shields, Qui-Gon,” Mace chided softly.

“Why?” Qui-Gon whispered. “Why would he ask that?”

Mace sighed. “I, and Master Yoda, were hoping you could tell us. I know there was tension between you when you left for Naboo, but I thought surely you both would have moved past it.”

Qui-Gon blinked. “Tension?”

Mace blinked back, equally startled. “Well, yes.”

Qui-Gon frowned at him. “There was no tension.”

Mace rolled his eyes. “Poodoo!” he snapped. “You stood before the entire High Council with a child you’d met less than a week before, declared to all of us that you were going to take this unknown child as your padawan learner, and never once looked at Obi-Wan when you said it.”

“I said Obi-Wan was ready for his Trials and I meant it,” Qui-Gon protested. “After Naboo was resolved I was going to put his name forth for them. I told him that.”

Mace gave him a measuring look. “Did you?”

Qui-Gon opened his mouth to say ‘of course I did!’ but something in his memory niggled at him. Actually, he hadn’t told Obi-Wan that. It was his intention, yes, but he hadn’t actually communicated that to his apprentice. He sighed.

“No.” The admission hurt. “I still don’t understand what this has to do with his wanting to break our bond before his Trials.”

Mace rolled his eyes again. “Qui-Gon, for someone as attuned to the Force as you are, as compassionate, headstrong, intelligent and sometimes wise, you are the stupidest man on this planet and it’s populated by a lot of politicians.”

Qui-Gon scowled but said nothing.

Mace sighed and settled back into his seat. “You _hurt_ Obi-Wan. He thought you were rejecting him, abandoning him. He tried valiantly to cover it up, agreeing as he did that he was ready for his Trials, but every damned one of us could feel his hurt and confusion. He’s been your faithful shadow for over a decade and you tossed him away as soon as something shiny and new came along.”

“I did no such thing!” Qui-Gon snapped angrily.

“You did, Qui-Gon, you foolish, foolish man.” Mace looked away but Qui-Gon caught the glimpse of disappointment in Mace’s eyes.

“I will not listen to this. Obi-Wan left _me_. Turned and left _me._ He’s been cold and almost hateful to me since we left for Naboo,” Qui-Gon began hotly.

Mace lifted a hand in a silent command to stop. Qui-Gon did, but he resented it. Mace looked him dead in the eye and said in his firmest Master of the High Council voice, “I think you need to meditate, Master Jinn. I think you need to review your memories from an angle other than your own blind eye. See what you were blind to, hear what you let in one ear and out the other, see yourself from outside and then tell me truthfully and honestly that Obi-Wan left you, turned on you, has been cold and hateful to you, undeservingly. If you can still substantiate those accusations, then we will have to reevaluate his candidacy for his Trials. As you two are no longer compatible, a new master will have to be found for him, if he wishes to continue to knighthood.”

Mace left the words unspoken that it would be next to impossible for someone of Obi-Wan’s advanced age to find a master willing to sponsor him until he was ready to take his Trials. Likely Obi-Wan would be turned from the Temple, stripped of his status as a Jedi, given a small stipend and necessities, and sent out into the galaxy to make a new life.

Qui-Gon’s swallowed, hard, as dismay and no small amount of fear lapped at the edges of his conscience.

“You owe Obi-Wan that much, don’t you think?” Mace set his cup down, never having sipped it, stood up and braced a hand in support on Qui-Gon’s shoulder. “Advise me when you’ve come to some conclusion. We will formulate what to do from there.”

Qui-Gon heard but didn’t react to Mace’s exit from his quarters.

Obi-Wan was his pride and joy. Feemor had been an excellent padawan, it was true, talented in his own way, but Qui-Gon could now admit he’d little appreciated his first padawan. Qui-Gon had taken Feemor as an apprentice for practice for when he would take the one he really wanted to padawan. Xanatos. Though Qui-Gon and Feemor had since come to an understanding, if not a closeness, the Jedi Master could admit he’d not treated Feemor as he should have, given him the attention the eager young man had deserved.

But Obi-Wan. Once Obi-Wan had wormed his way into Qui-Gon’s heart, there had been no stopping him. Day by day, mission after mission, Obi-Wan met and exceeded Qui-Gon’s expectations. The young Jedi soaked up Qui-Gon’s teachings, but was clever and confident enough to question when he needed to in finding his own path. Obi-Wan pushed his physical limits, learned what they were, and found ways to push them further, sometimes saving both their asses on dangerous missions. Naboo was the perfect example. That Obi-Wan could even _think_ Qui-Gon was rejecting him was absolutely ludicrous. Mace had it all wrong.

But…

Was it?

Obi-Wan had been bullied as an initiate. He had friends, yes, but enemies as well. Bruck Chun for example. The ginger-haired boy had been desperate, a bit fearful, and highly insecure of his place in the world. It was what caused Qui-Gon to refuse him to begin with. On Bandomeer, though, Obi-Wan more than proved his worth. He was loyal, honest, companionable, determined, clever, and self-sacrificing. Qui-Gon had grudgingly admitted he’d been wrong and taken Obi-Wan as his apprentice. When the Council balked at taking a boy who’d been sent away as padawan, Qui-Gon told them to shove it and walked away. Only Yoda stood by Qui-Gon’s decision.

Melida/Daan was entirely Qui-Gon’s fault. His obsession with Tahl even then endangered all of them and nearly lost him Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan, whose compassion and need to help had overridden even his long-held desire to be a Jedi. Qui-Gon didn’t attempt to temper the youth’s fire of righteousness. He hadn’t tried to guide him in any way. He’d taken Obi-Wan at face value, taken the young man’s lightsaber and left him on a war-torn world that he only had the barest knowledge of. Qui-Gon had left him without a backward glance and hardly a pang of remorse.

Qui-Gon had taken Obi-Wan back, yes, fought the Council once more for Obi-Wan’s reinstatement. He thought they’d worked through all of Obi-Wan’s insecurities over the years. Qui-Gon was lavish with his praise, stern with his corrections or rebukes. He gave Obi-Wan his due credit, good or bad. All in all, Qui-Gon felt he’d been as good a master as he could be for Obi-Wan. Never had he heard any complaints, either outloud or through their bond.

What was Mace and Yoda seeing that Qui-Gon was not? He sighed, tugging a lock of silver-shot hair brushing his shoulder. Perhaps Mace was right. Meditation was in order. He glanced at the closed door of the padawan room. But first, he needed to reassure Anakin.

He stood and crossed the room. He knocked gently on the door and called out, “Anakin?” Feet pattered within and the door swished open to reveal a solemn little boy, a bit small for his age, but oh so powerful in the Force.

“Master Qui-Gon, are you in trouble?”

Qui-Gon quirked a smile. “No, young one, I’m not in trouble. There is trouble, yes, but I’m not _in_ trouble.”

“Can I help?” Anakin’s blue eyes were earnest and hopeful. He wanted to please, partly because he wanted to belong and prove he belonged, but also because he was afraid that if he caused displeasure he’d be sent away.

“Not tonight. Perhaps tomorrow,” Qui-Gon told him, brushing one of his large hands over the whitish-blond hair. “You need to bathe and brush your teeth. You have an early tutoring session tomorrow. You’ll want to be well-rested for it.”

Anakin frowned a moment, as if trying to pick up if Qui-Gon was sincere. Then he smiled almost happily and did as he was bid. Qui-Gon went back to the common room and drank his tea.

Once Anakin was again his room, hopefully attempting sleep, Qui-Gon turned to his meditation mat. He’d bought it as an apprentice, much to his master’s disgust. It had been made by a child, one of their first attempts at weaving. It was clumsily made, but sturdy. It was colorful, made from various fabric rags, thick and comfortable to sit upon while meditating. Once Master Dooku got over his snobbish disdain of the mat, Qui-Gon had occasionally caught his master seated upon, communing deep with the Force. It had served Qui-Gon many years and he hoped many more.

He sent out feelers into the Force. His gift of being able to commune with the Living Force had its drawbacks on a planet as populated as Coruscant. It was loud, a cacophony of noise bombarding him through the Living Force. It took years for Qui-Gon to learn how to easily filter out the barrage of pulsations of billions of beings. Sometimes it was simple; other times as difficult as anything he’d ever done. This night it was in-between. Qui-Gon ran through his meditation exercises, and with minimum amount of struggle, found his center.

The Living Force was there, blue as the sky, sparkling as the oceans, serene and still. He focused and sank into it, relaxing and breathing deeply in relief. For a moment he lost sight of why he was doing this, but it came back to him when a voice said in an almost thready tone, “I am ready for my Trials.”

There was dismay and embarrassment at Master Yoda’s declaration that it was not Obi-Wan’s place to make that decision. While true, Qui-Gon saw that Mace had been right. Obi-Wan was trying to back up Qui-Gon’s declaration. Attempting to show confidence. There was an edge there, of uncertainty and fear, that Qui-Gon had originally missed.

He followed that feeling through he and Obi-Wan’s interactions after being dismissed from the Council chambers, later as they prepared for a return to Naboo, meeting with the Queen and making plans to liberate her planet. Qui-Gon tried to trace any resentment Obi-Wan might harbor against Anakin but there was none. More curiosity and bemusement than anything.

Their brief conversation before boarding the ship back to Naboo gave Qui-Gon pause. He replayed the memory over and over, from every angle he could bring to mind. In every one he heard a whispered bitter comment from Obi-Wan that made his heart constrict.

“Once again the disposable padawan.”

Was that how Obi-Wan saw himself? A placeholder until something better came along? Easily shoved aside and forgotten? Did all their years together mean nothing to the younger man?

Had Qui-Gon missed that Obi-Wan’s sense of self-worth was still so undervalued by his apprentice? Qui-Gon thought they’d moved past that, that Obi-Wan understood how valued he _was_. Qui-Gon’s pride in him, the Jedi Master’s conviction of Obi-Wan’s stellar future was obvious to him, but apparently not to Obi-Wan.

The flight back to Naboo Qui-Gon saw he spent most of it with Anakin and the Queen, indulging in the boy’s questions, offering comfort and strength to the young woman. Obi-Wan was nowhere in sight. Qui-Gon explored his memory of the bond’s sense and found Obi-Wan in misery, blanketed in self-doubt.

‘Qui-Gon Jinn, you are indeed a great fool,’ he chastised himself.

He explored the battle with the Sith and, to his horror, they weren’t fighting in synch like they always did. They knew each other’s fighting style well enough to anticipate but Qui-Gon’s near disembowelment was not due to his weariness or some Sith trick, but the fact that they weren’t working in harmonious tandem. That Obi-Wan had saved him had been Obi-Wan’s fierce determination, loyalty and desperation.

By all the little gods in the universe, Qui-Gon was a great, big, gigantic idiot of a fool.

Obi-Wan’s coldness and bruskness wasn’t mystifying now. The younger Jedi was trying to hide his hurt, his insecurities, his feelings of rejection; he didn’t want to disappoint Qui-Gon even then. To hide, Obi-Wan had to walk away. Obi-Wan knew Qui-Gon would eventually pick up his feelings, even as dense as Qui-Gon obviously was.

Qui-Gon jerked himself from his meditations and took a deep breath. His face was wet and he touched his cheek above the beard. Tears had streamed down his face from his intense emotions. Even now they blurred his vision. Qui-Gon hung his head and struggled to control his mixed, painful emotions.

“I should hate you.” Obi-Wan’s voice cracked out like a blaster shot in the darkness of the room.

Qui-Gon jerked upright in surprise and turned around so quickly he almost fell over.

Obi-Wan was sitting on the couch, staring pensively at something in his hand. “I tried to be everything you needed me to be, wanted me to be. I pushed myself to succeed, to anticipate, to be as exemplary as possible. To justify you taking me as your apprentice, not once, but twice. I tried not to let it hurt when I got little praise for my efforts. I told myself that you were stoic, that you saw and felt I knew that I had done well but didn’t think that praise was needed. I should be confident enough in myself to know I’d done a good job. You weren’t harsh in your criticisms but it was humiliating to have them pointed out in front of everyone, as if I should have known better and was a disappointment. I told myself it was just your way, you didn’t mean to be like that.”

Qui-Gon stared at his apprentice in horror. _What?_

“I spoke with Feemor once. He told me you weren’t like that with him. That maybe Xanatos had changed you. He told me not to take it to heart. He teased me and said if I was that awful, you would have had me kicked out.” Obi-Wan gave a self-deprecating smile, still staring at the thing he rolled around his palm. “It did not make me feel better. There’s only so much anyone can blame on Xanatos and, to be frank, I’d grown tired of it as an excuse.”

Qui-Gon tried to speak but his throat was closed tight; he could barely take a breath. He couldn’t have been so heartless to his Obi-Wan.

“Tahl told me once that I needed to be patient. That despite your maverick ways, you were the typical Jedi. The Force was everything. She reassured me I was doing nothing wrong, that I was doing everything right. Then she died and I almost lost you to the Dark Side.” Obi-Wan gave a hollow laugh that made Qui-Gon’s body shiver involuntarily.

“True, I stopped you from cold-blooded murder, but if I thought you inscrutable before, you were the frozen plains of Hoth after. I tried to joke, to tease, to care, to pamper. I rebelled, I rebuked, and backtalked. Anything and everything to get _something_ from you, all in vain. An occasional ‘don’t be willful’ and ‘mind yourself’ but I might as well have strolled naked through the Senate chambers for all the attention you paid me. You continued my training, did as was expected, but you weren’t there anymore. Our bond was still like some dead thing. It hurt to touch it sometimes even when I had to.”

Qui-Gon finally made a sound, some breathless squeak very unbecoming a Jedi Master. Obi-Wan paid it no mind.

“After awhile the bond opened bit by bit. It wasn’t like before Tahl by any stretch but I reasoned that time and life experiences change everything. I’d gotten comfortable with our routine, you allowed me more freedom of expressing myself and voicing opinions and strategies. It wasn’t what I wanted but I had long since resigned myself that what I wanted was never going to happen. What I had would have to do. I was lucky to be trained by a Jedi Master like you. I shouldn’t complain. You weren’t perfect, but you never claimed to be so. I just needed to accept you as you were.”

Obi-Wan took a deep breath. “And then Naboo. Something was off from the start. There was something wrong with you before we even got to the Trade Federation ship. You seemed tense despite your confidence that it was a milk run mission. I don’t think you realized it. My attempts at levity earned me sharp looks of reprimand. I decided that something had you on edge that I was missing. I couldn’t pinpoint what it was and it bothered me. When we got to Tatooine and you and Padme went to Mos Espa, I grew uneasy myself. You sent me the boy’s blood sample for a midichlorian count. And from that moment on, I ceased to exist.”

Qui-Gon raised his hand in protest but it was ignored.

“The bond went dead once more. The only reason I knew you’d been attacked by the Sith was Anakin shouted that you were fighting someone with a red lightsaber. I reacted as you’d trained me, tapping into the Force. We were off but when I went to see if you were okay, you brushed by me as if I wasn’t even there. You didn’t even look at me. I had to move out of your way or you would have run me over.”

Qui-Gon’s brain raced to that moment. He saw that Obi-Wan was right and felt a deep shame.

“After that, I was a nuisance, in the way of what you saw your destiny to be, a millstone around your neck that you had to get rid of as soon as possible. I tried to make you see reason, to see _me_ , but you snapped at me, brushed me aside. It was like I was a twelve-year-old initiate again, close enough to my thirteenth birthday and having failed to get a master once more that I was only good for the Agricorps. I wondered if this was how Feemor felt about Xanatos. I spitefully wondered why anyone thought you wise and compassionate. I wanted to hate you, resent you. I wished you’d left me on fucking Bandomeer!” This last was a near shout.

Qui-Gon flinched but still couldn’t speak. What had he done? By the Force, what had he _done_?

“The fight with the Sith, I tried to reach you along the bond, all but screaming down it, but it was like grasping air. We’d fought side by side for so long I knew what you’d do, the moves you would make, the strategies you would implement. By some grace of the Force, I stopped his blade from piercing you. Sometimes I wonder why I bothered but you are my master, my mentor. You are far from perfect but you are a good man. Usually.”

Qui-Gon swallowed. He shook his head but the room was dark and Obi-Wan was still staring at his hands.

“You turned to me with such triumph in your eyes. You hugged me. I didn’t know what you wanted from me. Never had you shown any such emotion to me. There were other battles to fight, so I concentrated on them. After it was all over though, I was back to being invisible. I did as I ought, helped where I should, played the proper Jedi, servant of the Republic. When the Council arrived Yoda realized right away something was wrong and cornered me. I managed to fob him off that it was the excitement of the Sith returning, finding the Chosen One, the fight for Naboo’s freedom. I was just out-of-sorts, that’s all. Nothing a little bit of meditation wouldn’t sort out. He didn’t buy it, but let me go anyway.”

“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon managed to croak out but again he was ignored. Obi-Wan wasn’t done with his reckoning.

“We returned to Coruscant and you again reiterated that I was ready for my Trials and that you wanted to take Anakin as your apprentice. This time the Council agreed. Any hope of having allies was gone. If I failed my Trials, I would be dismissed and forgotten. An occasional thought of ‘I wonder where he is now?’ if you thought of me at all. I came back from sparring practice to find Anakin in my room. He asked me when he could move in, when I would be moving out. That was it. That was the final straw. You wanted your Chosen One so damned bad you could fucking have him. I politely got him distracted elsewhere and trashed everything that reminded me of you, of my apprenticeship, and that would just emotionally hold me back. I took what I absolutely couldn’t part with. I demanded from the quartermaster my own quarters. I ignored the pity on his face and went to my new rooms. I’ve only had two visitors since then: Bant and Master Yoda. No one speaks to me in the commissary. I can feel the pity emanating from people as I walk down the halls. I am as I have always been: the disposable, invisible padawan.”

Qui-Gon couldn’t tear his gaze away from Obi-Wan’s shadowed form. His heart was in his throat. He could hardly breath now faced with his own callousness and cruelty.

“I take my Trials in two days’ time. The mind healers say it’s almost impossible to do without the training bond. They divulged there are elements of it where the bond is almost a requirement. I’ve come this far, I might as well fail as spectacularly as possible. So, I’ve come to ask you, will you open our bond enough that I can use it for whatever I need for my Trials? Then you’ll be shut of me, you’ll never have to think of me ever again, no matter the outcome. If you refuse, I’ll go it alone, do my best and hope it’s enough.”

The silence was deafening. The monotonous drone of Obi-Wan’s speech had filled the space of their once shared quarters as if he’d been speaking in the Senate Chambers.

‘Move, you ass!’ a voice commanded Qui-Gon and he lurched to his feet, ungainly as any newborn. He clumsily stumbled to Obi-Wan and fell to his knees in penitence before his apprentice, gasping for air as if he’d done the most strenuous of katas.

“No,” he managed to say and Obi-Wan stood up abruptly, taking Qui-Gon’s word as an answer to his plea for help. “Please, Obi-Wan, you don’t understand,” Qui-Gon managed to say weakly.

The younger man hesitated but wouldn’t look at Qui-Gon.

“You are everything anyone could want in an apprentice,” Qui-Gon told him lowly, with great shame lacing his voice. “I have been so proud of you for so long. You have long proven yourself a better man, a better Jedi than I could ever hope to be. How you could think…” Qui-Gon looked down and tried to marshal his thoughts. “I know we started out poorly and it was entirely my fault. I was a blind, idiotic fool. Time and time again you went far beyond my wildest expectations. I was, and am, continually taken by surprise your prowess, grace, intelligence, compassion, power, and beauty. You have your flaws, don’t we all, but I never, ever once thought of you as disposable. For over a decade you have been my pride and joy. I thought no one could outshine Xanatos’ brilliance but you have made him seem like dull coal indeed.”

He saw Obi-Wan waver, could sense the younger Jedi’s indecision in believing Qui-Gon’s words.

“I said once that you were a wiser man than me and would be a great Jedi Knight. I meant it, Obi-Wan. I know my sense of the future is limited but I know this with every fiber of my being. Of course, I want you to succeed. Of course, I want you to fulfill your potential, even as it saddens me that you will drift away from me and take your shining light with you. I had no idea...” Qui-Gon’s voice broke and he drew in a shuddering breath. “I had no idea you felt like this, that I had hurt you and neglected you, not given you the praise well-earned, that I had done such harm to you. Please believe me, Obi-Wan, I would never…” He couldn’t continue. Sobs closed his throat, tears blinded him and he fell forward at Obi-Wan’s feet, grasping his ankles as if begging.

“The only thing you ever gave me was a rock.” Obi-Wan’s voice was contemplative. “I still have it, right here in my hand. I thought about leaving it behind, but I couldn’t. I don’t know why.”

Qui-Gon didn’t think his shame could deepen any further but it did.

“I want to hate you, I want to resent you, I want to blame you for all my faults and feelings.”

Qui-Gon felt more than saw Obi-Wan crouch down. Elegant, almost delicate, hands framed his face and tilted him up to look at the apprentice he’d wrong so hideously. Qui-Gon lifted a trembling hand and touched Obi-Wan’s shaven cheek. He was startled to find tears there too.

“But I can’t. I could have done something about it. I could have expressed my need for acknowledgement better. I could have gone to the Council and demanded intercession. I didn’t. I put up with it because I’m a great fool. Like my master.”

Qui-Gon pulled Obi-Wan into his arms, buried his face in the younger Jedi’s neck and sobbed pitifully. Obi-Wan said nothing more, just stroked Qui-Gon’s hair, worrying out the tangles. Eventually spent, Qui-Gon pulled away.

“I have wronged you so greatly, my brilliant padawan. I will do whatever you ask of me in penitence,” he whispered hoarsely. “I will work with you to restrengthen our bond so that you may pass your Trials. If you wish to forgive your fool of a master, I would be ecstatic. If you choose to break with me, leave me and my harm to you behind, I will respect that as well. Just know,” Qui-Gon leaned in and kissed Obi-Wan gently on the mouth, “I have loved you, as a son, as a partner, as a Jedi and as a man. I ask nothing of you that you do not wish to give. I have not earned that right.”

Qui-Gon lurched to his feet and blindly made his way to his room, unable to say or do more. The door swished open and he paused, hoping Obi-Wan would say something. Instead, incredibly, there was a touch at his waist, Obi-Wan pressed against his back.

“Time for bed, my master,” his apprentice said with no little exasperation. “I think you’ve had enough excitement for the evening.”

“You will come with me?” Qui-Gon knew he shouldn’t sound so pitiful, but he couldn’t help it.

“I’ll check on Anakin. He’s been respectful by staying in his room but I can sense his curiosity and worry so strongly it’s like a smell.”

Qui-Gon swallowed and moved inside. He stripped to his small clothes and fell into the bed, not even bothering to pull the blankets back. How long he lay there, staring dumbly into the darkness he didn’t know. The door swished open, Obi-Wan entered. He heard the rustle of clothing as Obi-Wan undressed and then there was the warmth of Obi-Wan crowding against him.

“I have to think,” Obi-Wan told him seriously even as he snuggled against Qui-Gon. “I love you in so many ways, but I have to think. But not tonight. I’ve said enough for the both of us. We’ll figure it out in the morning.”

Qui-Gon wrapped his beloved Obi-Wan in his arms. “I will take whatever you will give,” he said solemnly. “You have been my heart for a very long time.”

Obi-Wan hadn’t heard him, he realized with a pang. The younger man was already asleep, relaxed in Qui-Gon’s embrace. Qui-Gon brushed a kiss on the nearest spot he could reach, Obi-Wan’s forehead. He would spend the rest of his wretched life making up to Obi-Wan everything and showing him the love Qui-Gon had for him.

And yes, he would fight the Council for that too.


End file.
